Like air
From the mouth of
A pressurized balloon
Joy rushes out from me
Leaking on my cheeks
Coloring my smile
Anytime my pale eyes
Connect with the golden sunset
That sleeps in yours.
Month: February 2017
Wither
The little garden you grew
When you fell in love
With the scent of flowers
Has grown into a forest
After you left
Maybe
Forgetting to water it
Was better than
Chopping of its beauties
So you could carry them
And keep them for yourself
Free writing
The Lost Scrolls 